


All Humor is Physical

by locketofyourhair



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Character of Color, Community: kink_bingo, M/M, whipping/flogging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-28
Updated: 2011-06-28
Packaged: 2017-10-20 20:02:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/216604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/locketofyourhair/pseuds/locketofyourhair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are things Morgan doesn’t want to think about on a case, and he definitely doesn’t want that with Reid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Humor is Physical

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**kink_bingo**](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/), prompt whipping/flogging

Morgan doesn’t know why Hotch hates him, but he has to. There is absolutely no other reason to send Morgan here with the kid.

It’s not the first time he’s had to do research in a kink shop. In their line of work, there are a lot of people who like to take something safe and consenting and use it for all the wrong reasons. He just doesn’t really want to be here with Reid, especially when Reid starts ratting off facts about the average vibrator specifications and how the sexes differ in their preferences.

“Reid,” he says, when he notices that the girl behind the counter is giving them both kind of an evil look. “Maybe we should focus on the case.”

Reid nods, but then he moves forward to pick up a novelty pen, the women’s clothes falling off. Morgan rolls his eyes. There’s way too much stimuli in this shop for Reid. He just hopes that Reid knocks off with the statistics until they’re back in the car.

The girl comes over to Morgan as Reid steps away again. He holds up his credentials. “Hi, I’m Special Agent Derek Morgan, and that’s my associate, Dr. Reid. We’d like to ask you some questions.”

She frowns, and he can see that she’s trying to decide if they’re here because people are being killed and it must be the kinky freaks or if they’re actually here to learn something. “How can I help you?” she asks, and she’s clearly gone for defensive.

He tries to ask around the thing without it making it sound like every person who goes to a sex shop is a pervert, getting her to relax before he goes in for the deeper stuff. It’s no good if she’s worried he’s judging this store. He finishes with, “We’re concerned that this man is using the BDSM subculture to find his victims, people who are interested but don’t know how to start. Newer people in the community.”

“Oh,” she says, and she ducks behind the counter. “We, um, there are these munches a few times a month, and if I were a newbie, that’s where I’d start.” She hands him a calendar that’s marked, and it’s a lead.

“Do you have a list of all of these?” he asks.

She doesn’t respond, because Reid rushes up beside both of them. His sleeve is pulled down and there are red welts forming on his skin, and there’s a black sextoy in his hand. “Morgan, look at this.” He hits an expose swath of skin, where it’s still pale. “See that edge?”

Morgan isn’t seeing a lot besides the way Reid’s skin is started to turn pink, the faint edges of the flogger starting become apparent. He sees the edge, the place where the plastic almost cut Reid, only because Reid keeps pointing to it.

“Here,” Reid says. He undoes his other sleeve and offers his arm. “Hit me as hard as you can. I think that would break the skin if you didn’t care about leaving a mark.”

“Break the skin, and you have to buy it,” the girl behind the counter says immediately.

“We will,” Reid says, and he holds his arm out insistently. “I won’t hit myself hard enough, Morgan. I’m a flincher.”

Morgan looks at the cheap toy. He wants to say that he can’t imagine using this on someone, but that’s a lie, because he _is_ thinking about using it on Reid, and how this couldn’t feel half as good as something made from real leather, something with a real weight to it.

But he’s working, and he’s not going to think about flogging Reid on company time. He takes a breath and hits Reid without warning, so hard that the flogging handle feels close to cracking in his hand. And it breaks the skin, and Reid yelps in pain and triumph. “These are what he’s using,” he crows, before a much softer, “And I need a bandaid.”

Morgan sets the flogger on the counter and pulls out his wallet. “How much?”

The girl smiles and picks up the flogger with a bag covering her hand, all very careful not to touch the tip where it broke Reid’s skin. “This is more of a flogger for show, not for real play. If you want, I can show you better ones.” She raises her eyebrows, and he knows he’s been found out.

Reid, though,is oblivious. He has his hand clapped over his wound and asks what Morgan should have asked, what he should have been concentrating on instead of thinking about different floggers and the different shapes they could make on Reid’s skin.

“So someone who regularly practises BDSM wouldn’t use these?”


End file.
